


When Spittle Hurts More Than A Little

by smalld1171



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-07-02
Packaged: 2017-10-17 21:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smalld1171/pseuds/smalld1171
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A hurt after a hunt Dean story because I LOVE that! I hope any who read with enjoy.  Thanks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a weird thought that ran through my head and begged me to type it out. I hope it is at least mildly entertaining. Reviews would be awesome if you are so inclined. Thanks for checking it out. :)
> 
> By the way, I do not own SPN but man, wouldn't that be TOTALLY AWESOME?

Son of a bitch. Okay, that thing just spit at me. That's bad. Didn't Sam say something about how the saliva from this bastard can be deadly? God, and it reeks. Maybe they paralyze you with their damn stench first. Pew. Gross. That is beyond nasty. Okay, I see Sam. Be sneaky bro. Shit, did it just hear him? Okay Dean, time to get that damn thing's attention back onto you and not Sammy.

"Really dude, have you never heard of a freakin tic tac? I mean c'mon, just between you and me, you have got some major halitosis going on, and it ain't pretty."

Good. Got it's attention again. C'mon Sammy, c'mon, time to pump this fugly full of lead. Shit. Almost got me that time with another stanky wad of..uh...stank. Man, it is just so gross. Ugh, I am gonna need a steaming hot shower after this. I can almost feel the stench on me. Blah.

"HA! Missed me! AGAIN! Time's running out, you are gonna be so freakin dead in like a second you ugly piece of shit. Any second now."

C'mon Sammy, what's the hold up here?

"Or, maybe NOW!"

Sam, line up the shot bro cuz it's starting to get it's sights on me.

Oh no you don't. Shit. Damn it. That hurts you asshole. The splatter off the fricken tree got me? Are you serious? Did it do that on purpose? This thing, is it actually intelligent? Huh, touche my evil adversary. Touche. Ah well, it just stings, nothing too serious. I mean really, how bad could one or two drops be? I'm still standing right? And you my evil friend are still gonna die. Do it Sammy. Now.

Woah. Good shot. Take that you piece of crap.

"So, how does it feel? Not so good huh? What's a matter? Not so quick on the draw with your pukey spit machine now are ya buddy?"

I'm babbling. Why am I babbling? Frick, does that mean something? Nah, it's good. Just glad to see this mother on his way out. No harm in rubbing it in a bit more.

"What's that, I can't make out what you're saying. Oh right, cuz it must be kinda hard to talk when your head is full of lead."

Cool, I'm a poet...and I didn't even know it. Okay, that was fairly gay dude.

"Bon Voyage slimeball. And I do mean slimeball, like, literally dude."

Okay, so now where is the man of the hour? Sammy, slimeball liquidator? Is he okay? Yeah, just relax man, it's all good, here he comes. Well that's a relief. Huh, that's weird. My legs kinda feel off, wobbly. Well, I did do a lot of running right? Hey, the ground right here against this tree looks comfortable. I'll just sit down right here for a second until Sam gets here. It's always good to give the legs a bit of a rest once in a while right?

"Dean?"

Sam, this is a really big tree bro. Wow, I can't even see the top. Cool. There sure are a lot of stars out tonight. Huh.

"Dean! C'mon, focus man. Did it get you? Look at me. DEAN!"

Too loud Sam. Way too fricken loud. Thanks for the instant headache dude. Cripes, just relax, I'm good.

"Sam. Good shot dude. You make your big brother proud."

"Listen to me Dean. Did it get you?"

Huh. There is nothing more awkward than having a grown man start to check you out for phantom injuries.

"Quit touching me dude. It barely got me. Just a couple drops man. Relax."

Shit. I hate that stupid sigh. Why does he always make that sound? I hate it. It means that he doesn't believe me. He thinks I am hurt and hiding something from him. But really, it's just a couple of drops Sammy, no need to worry. Nothing a good shower won't cure.

"Okay Dean. Listen. The fact that only a couple drops got you is good, well, it is the only reason that you are still breathing. But, this shit is bad bro and we need to get you back to Bobby's like now. We need to go. NOW Dean!"

Frick, my head is gonna pop right off. Stop with the screaming bro, you always get too worked up about nothing. I'm fine.

"Shhh..quiet Sammy. Head hurts. I'm fine. Just needed to rest for a minute. And please, stop giving me the eyeball already."

"Let's go Dean."

"Fine. Whatever."

Okay, so this is kind of unexpected. I can almost hear the I told you so now. I am so damn tired that I can't even push myself up off the ground. I can sense that Sam is getting a bit, shall we say, worked up, so I guess for now I will just admit defeat and get the damn puppy dog eyeballs over and done with.

"Uh, little help here Sam. I can't seem to get up."

I don't know which I hate more. The fact that Sammy doesn't say a word or having to hear that damn sigh again. Either way it makes me think that perhaps I am in a little more trouble than I first thought. Awesome.

TBC... Please let me know what you think and thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

"C'mon Dean, I got ya bro. Time to get up."

Wait, just one damn minute. Frick. My head. That can't be good. Feels like I've been on a bender but can't remember all the fun I had. Typical. No fun for Dean. Ever. Okay, so what's the deal here, I'm on the ground, leaning against...what? Shit. Note to self, no sudden movements with your damn head unless you want your brains to leak out through your ears. Idiot. So, a tree? Cripes, cracked my skull on a tree? Figures. So, concussion then. Yeah, that makes sense. Can't really remember what happened, or how I got here, my head feels like it's gonna explode, I'm tired, and... yup, the set is complete with the addition of blurred vision. Goody.

It's bad enough to see one Sam leaning over me with his patented 'I knew Dean was hurt' face but having to see two...wait, make that three, is just too much to handle. Stupid concussions, they always make me loopy. Sucks.

"Dean, are you ready? Give me your hand, I'll help you up. We gotta go dude."

Gotta keep alert. Gotta keep my guard up. Can't let anything happen to Sammy while he is performing his usual mother hen impression on me. Just cuz I pissed off some damn spirit...or ghost? No, that's not it. What the hell attacked me? Shit, c'mon brain, time to reboot. Wait. Sam, he would know.

"Spirit S'm?"

Great, now he's looking at me like I grew another freakin head. So that would be a no on the spirit then? Please dude, I hate that damn sigh. Stop it already. I think there has been enough of that shit already. Just...chillax bro, it's not the first time I've had my brains scrambled. Just need some shut eye and I'll be good as new. You know me, I'm always fine. Okay, enough with the look. I can't stand it. Your eyeballs, they are boring right into my brain. I can't concentrate and my eyes are burning through my skull from the inside out. Just gotta close them for a minute.

Ah, that's better. No need to live through the humiliation and weakness of having my baby brother help me up with my eyes wide open. Ain't gonna happen. Hell, if I don't see it then it didn't really happen. Deny, deny, deny. That's the Dean Winchester way. Huh, that's kinda funny.

"What are you laughing at Dean? What?"

"Inside joke. Everything about this is funny. You. Me. Out here in the middle of nowhere hunting god knows what while the rest of the damn planet goes about their lives, totally oblivious to what monsters are in their midst. Can't help but laugh, it is just too hilarious. I'm in a great mood. I obviously got creamed by some damn something, I am totally at the mercy of my shaggy haired baby brother and my head feels like there is some asshole with a freakin jackhammer drilling right into it. So, hey man, what are the options? To laugh or to cry dude. So I choose to laugh."

"Right. You are so out of it right now dude."

Am not Sam. Just tired of this bullshit. Why are you touching me again? You know my personal space rule, I'm pretty sure we've talked about it once or twice. Don't you get it? You have to keep sharp Sam, stop worrying about me. Whatever did this to me could still be out there.

Okay, that is it! The line must be drawn here. Hands on my face? Awkward dude.

"Open your eyes Dean."

"Make me bitch."

"Real mature. Look, you don't remember what happened which means the poison is working fast so we don't have time for all your macho bullshit! So, give me your damn hand and open your damn eyes before I get pissed off and pry them open myself!"

Okay. Back up a minute. Poison? Huh. From what? Ah well, whatever man, all I know is that threats of violence ain't really your style. Best to leave that to us professionals.

"Still waiting Dean."

Just hang on. Okay, there. I knew it would pass. Back to a nice, peaceful, relaxing throb at the base of my skull. It's like heaven. Just gotta keep the eyeballs closed for another minute then I'll be good to go. Good to go.

"DEAN!"

Guess I'm getting up now. Woah. Breathe Dean, just breathe through it. It's just a little dizziness. Snap out of it man. Gotta be cool. Gotta watch out for Sam. Don't forget your job. You're good. Okay. Now open your eyes. Shit. Still hurts like a son of a bitch. Suck it up dude, keep an eye out. Watch out for Sammy.

And off we go. Woah, what's the rush bro, why are we heading back to the car at mach speed? Great, Sam has got that frown of his plastered firmly on his face and he ain't talking and to top it off, I can't seem to get my damn legs to stay in rhythm with his unnaturally gigantic ones. Okay Dean, just focus. One foot in front of the other. Right. Left. Right. Left. This fricken sucks. Here I am, a grown man and I have to concentrate just to keep my feet in synch. What gives?

What's that over there? Oh. Well, there it is. Huh, I guess I did forget. That slimy bastard. HA! But now I remember! Sammy got game and pumped that fugly full of lead. A thing of beauty! Awesomely awesome. But. Oh right. Spit. Stanky, gruesome, nasty spit. So, to sum it all up I feel like shit because some Jabba the Hut wannabee asshole decided to launch a wad at me? Perfect. Man, I should start writing this down. I could write a fricken book of all the weird ways I've been hurt on a hunt. I could call it 'Dean's Guide to Shitty Ways to Get Hurt'. Okay, the title needs a little work. But still, that would be totally awesome.

See Sam, told ya, I'm good. On the mend already. It'll pass. Quit the worrying already. You know me, I am always okay. I'm always fine. I'm fine. You're fine. Hell, we are all fine! And as long as you are okay, whatever this is, whatever happens to me is fine. Because you are safe.

Time to slow down. Just gotta slow down for a second.

"Keep moving Dean, don't stop."

What? I am moving! If you would just stop dragging me all over the god damn place for a minute. Geez, I just need a break, my legs are on fire and my head is pounding out a nasty beat and that annoying look on your face is starting to piss me right off. Just cool it man. Actually, just back off for a minute. Let go of me for one damn minute! Ha, see, I can still walk.

Shit. Now what? Damn it. Why do we always have to traipse around in the dark? Why can't these fugly mothers hang out in the daytime for a change? Then at least I could see two feet in front of my damn face! Stop looking at me like that Sam, it wasn't my fault. I tripped over some piece of shit, well hidden root or something, not my own feet. God. My head. Stop with the hammering already, it's gonna drive me nuts. What was in that damn spit? I mean really, two damn drops and I can't even walk to the car without having to get all snuggly with my brother. It's just plain embarrassing.

"Sam...let's stop just for a minute. Please."

I'm gonna pass out if I don't stop. All I can hear is my heart beat and the rush of my own blood. Not good.

"Sorry bro, gotta keep going, can't stop because it's just gonna get worse. Just let me do the work, we're almost there."

What? Get worse? Well, ain't that totally peachy.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TBC... Thanks for stopping by. Please review if you wish! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Okay already, stop shaking me Sam! I heard you the first twenty fricken times! Poison..blah..need to keep moving..blah dee blah blah blah. Just, please. My head. My legs. Hell, my everything hurts.

Hold up. What? Oops, okay Sam, sorry about that. My bad. It's just me. Shaking like a leaf in the breeze. Weird, I don't feel cold do I? Nope. So what gives? Huh. Right. Remember Dean. Poison. Yeah. What a pisser. Shit, am I actually having a conversation with myself? Just another day in paradise man.

Wait. I know that sound. That beautiful rumble. Tires on asphalt. The open road. Hey baby, you know just what to do to make a guy feel better. But, what the hell? When did we get to the car? Don't remember that. Must be getting old. No. Poison Dean. It's the poison. Right, must of blacked out for a bit. But come on, how bad can that be right?

"Bobby? Yeah, it's Sam. What? Oh, yeah, it's dead. Gigantic piece of sludge."

Yeah Sammy, you did real good. Brain matter all over the place. A sight to behold. I wish I had brought the camera. Okay, that was random. We don't even own a camera do we? Maybe we'll have to get one. Capture all the fun. Photographic evidence to put in my new book.

"But, well, we have a problem. Uh, well, it's Dean. Yeah, you know him, had to go and distract it long enough for me to take it out. Practically had himself on a platter with an apple stuck in his mouth."

Nice one. Okay Bobby. Now you can tell my worry wart of a brother that it ain't no big deal. Just a couple drops. Do it Bobby. Tell him.

"He passed out. But. Wait. He's shaking. What does that mean? What? No, just a couple drops."

Yeah, that's right. Just a couple goopy drops of, well, goop. I've had worse. Much, much worse. Sammy, it's okay bro. Stop the worrying. What's a bit of goop? Can't keep the Dean Machine out of commission for too long. But, okay, this is kinda maybe bad. I can't seem to open up my eyes.

"About an hour ago. Yeah, we're on the way. Well, he wasn't making much sense. And he was having trouble walking. And he didn't seem to remember what happened."

Well you see how 'with it' you are when you get attacked by something out of a science fiction movie. Okay Sam? Then, we'll just see how fabulous you manage! Woah. Get a grip.

"And, uh, Bobby? Better get that antidote ready. What? Okay, okay, I'm sorry. No, I don't think you're an idiot. I'm just worried. I want to get him there, get it done and over with. Yeah, I know, me too."

Of course you're worried. Where would the world be, how would it function day to day if little Sammy Winchester wasn't fretting his head about something, or someone? And hey, bro, even though my eyes refuse to open I am pretty sure I can still see that pouty look on your face. Wait for it Dean...wait for it. There! Right on cue! Sigh number forty seven for the day. See Sam, I'm good. I still know exactly what you are going to do next. How bad can things be?

"I know, hopefully he'll be too out of it to realize what is going on. No, I don't think he likes needles too much. Okay, see ya soon Bobby. Bye."

Excuse fricken me? Needles? No one said anything about needles! Oh no, no way. I am NOT going to be a human pincushion. I am NOT going to get anything injected into me. Or taken out of me. Or anything. Or both. I'll just ride it out then, like I always do. No need to use any sharp, poking, prodding devices on me. Absolutely not!

"S'mm...no..needles dude. No friggen way!"

"Dean? Oh, uh...you heard that huh?"

"You bet your ass I did. You and Bobby Dearest better figure out some other way. Or hope to hell that I do pass out because if either of you come near me with a needle so help me, I will hurt you!"

"Just relax man. Don't be such a little baby. You get sown up and sutured and stuff all the time so what's the big deal?"

"Not..gonna happen dude. Look Sam, this will pass. This, well, whatever this is. You never told me, what the hell is in this shit anyways?"

"Well...if you would have gotten a full dose your heart would have just given out, case closed. But...it basically works like venom from a..."

God, my neck. So itchy. Ahhh...much better. Nope, not better. Not good yet. Still itchy. Better give it another go. Put a little more elbow grease into it.

"Dean! Stop scratching! Stop!"

No way Sam. It's...shit. I don't like the feel of that. Wet. Sticky. C'mon Dean, time to open your eyes dude. Something is not right. Need to check it out. Wow, note to self, don't open your eyes unless you really, really need to. Fricken hurts like a bitch.

Okay. Definitely need to stop scratching. Blood. Lots of blood. Dean, time to trim your nails dude. Focus. Focus Dean. Better stop. Huh. Don't wanna be like that dude from Poltergeist. Tearing the flesh off his own face. That was some nasty shit. Just think about that Dean. Think about that. Don't scratch. Don't scratch. But. Frick. So damn itchy.

"Sam..can't stop..."

"Dean! Hang on!"

Yeah, still here Sam. Dean, stop with the scratching man. You are getting Samantha all worked up again. Sit on your hands. Or put them in your lap. Just, do something! Cripes, it's just... The car. Has it stopped? Are we at Bobby's? Can he make the itch stop? Sam? Where is he? Oh, perfect. Sure, I'm ripping my god damn throat out and brother dear is probably taking a leak outside. Real nice.

Okay, there he is. What's he holding? And why does he look so guilty? I don't like that look. That means he's gonna do something I ain't gonna like. If I could only stop...this damn scratching...there...good... I'm okay Sam.

"Sorry dude but this is for your own good."

What? That's not the best way to start a conversation Sam. Now I know that you're gonna piss me off. No! Let go of my arms. C'mon Dean, you are stronger than this. You can get away. Shit. No dice. At the mercy of my brother. This sucks. What's he? Hell no! Please Sam. Don't! The itch is back.. it's driving me mad! Please! Don't. You bitch. Untie me!

"Dean, look at me."

"Bite me..."

"Look man, you are bleeding all over the place and you've already gone through a few layers of your skin. I know you can't control it so save the speech okay? I know it sucks dude but this is just temporary, until we get to Bobby's."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself Sam."

And there it is. Sigh number forty-fricken-eight. Getting on my nerves Sam.

 

TBC.. Thanks again for reading, I appreciate it!


	4. Chapter 4

Sam. You are so gonna pay for this.

"You can stop with the glare dude, it won't work. I am NOT going to untie you. We're almost there. Try and relax."

You have got to be shittin' me! Relax? Oh Sam, you are so gonna get it. When this is all over I am going to stock up on itching powder. Then I'm gonna cover you in it from head to toe. And then, you know what? I'm going to tie you up like a damn pig on a spit and watch you squirm. But don't worry, I'll be right there with you. I can offer the same useless advice that is spewing out of your mouth right now.

I can not fricken wait. To say those words to you. When it's my turn to say it. To say 'Just relax Sam'.

"Okay, what's the grin for Dean?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out. But it's gonna be fun and..." Damn it! Shit! Okay, just breathe Dean. What? No. Ahhh... now my...damn leg? Don't move. Don't flinch. Just ride it out. Don't give that brother of yours the satisfaction. Don't give him an excuse to tie you up like a steer at the damn rodeo. This... it's... what...

"Dean? Tell me what's going on."

"Nothin' Einstein. Just ignoring your annoying ass. Can't you take the hint? You are..." Itchy. So damn itchy. Everywhere. Neck. Leg. Please, just stay away from the jewels.

Well, you can get to the one of your leg you idiot. You can use the car dummy. Yeah, she can help. Look Dean. There. The door handle. It looks like a good scratcher.

"Stop it Dean. You're gonna make it worse."

How? I've already been kidnapped by my own damn brother and been poisoned by a whatever the hell it's called and so if I want to scratch for a little relief then damn it, I am going to fricken scratch! You can't tell me what to do Sam, you are not the one being attacked by a swarm of... oh yeah, that's the sweet stuff. That's the spot. I should stop. My jeans. Huh, the blood is starting to seep through them. But, no sweat, it's just one little spot. That isn't so bad.

Hands off dude. No way, I am NOT going to lean on you! Leave all that touchy feely crap for your girl's night out. Samantha. It doesn't work on me.

"Dean. Listen to me." Oh, come on Sam. No, not that voice. That soft, gentle voice. I'm not a damn victim that you need to try and soothe with your caring ways. It's so damn...girly and means you're gonna pour your heart out. I hate it.

"You need to stop. It's the poison. Remember? It is doing a number on your body and you aren't thinking straight. You need to stop scratching. You are going to bleed out in your own damn car if you don't stop."

But Sam. Please, let go of me.

"You need to calm yourself down. Please Dean. For me. Do it for me."

Ah hell. Figures you would go for the jugular Sam. You would pull out the 'for me' card. Low blow dude. Low fricken blow. Okay... Sam... Woah, feel lightheaded. Oh. Okay, lots of blood. No wonder I'm, not feeling so...good.

You win. But only cuz I can't stand anymore of your...damn whining. Don't want you to have to pull over...to have a good cry. Samantha. So, i'll do it...for you. But... I know... I'll just close my eyes, feel kinda sleepy. Then maybe... itch... go away... kick your ass... later...

"Dean? Dean? You have to stay awake man. Please. Just a few more minutes. Dean?"

"Don't...feel...good...S'my..." Shit. Nice way to blow your cover Dean. Wuss.

"I know. We'll fix you up soon bro, I promise. Just hang in there okay?"

"Y'h..."

That's better. The itch. It's stopped. I knew I'd make it through. I always do. I'm good. Whew, that wasn't fun. In your face Sam!

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

SHIT! What in the hell? Can't I even get a moment of peace? Why do I always have to deal with this damn shit? Frick! Okay, rest time over. Son of a bitch! My back. Why are you stabbing me in the back Sam? Stop holding me! The pain. God!

"Dean! Stop struggling. What's wrong? Tell me, what is happening?"

UGH! Sucky shit mother of a damn bitch whore skanky... Sorry baby but I gotta get it out! Take that! And that! Yeah, pain in foot replaces pain in back. Dean, you are one cool mother. You are too damn smart for your own good.

Okay, chick flick moment officially over. HA! SEE! You can't hold me Sam!

"Dean! STOP! Get back here! Let me help you!"

Damn it, not enough. Need something else. If I could use my fricken hands I would punch that damn window! But no, Einstein over there decided in his infinite wisdom to tie his own brother up! Nice plan Sam! Okay, what can I do? What can I... Ahh, yeah, that's it. Head against window. That'll work. Yeah, okay, that hurt. Good. Instant headache. Bring it on!

"DEAN! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

Sorry Sammy, can't answer you right now. Need to concentrate on the throb in my head. I'll just stay over here and... ahh, the window. So nice and cold. I'll just lean my head here for a minute. Yeah, it's good. Just breathe through the pain Dean. Don't be such a damn wimp.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Bobby, we're a couple of minutes away. Can you meet us outside? It's bad. Do you have something to give him? No, no. I mean something to settle him down? He's...well... wild and wired and totally out of it. He just purposely smashed his head against the window Bobby! He is gonna seriously hurt himself. Okay, yeah, that'll work."

What? Now what are you two buddies planning? And plotting? Why do you always keep me in the dark? I'm fine. Settle me down? Oh no, no you don't. I don't need your fricken help. I'm settled. I'm calm. Just need you two to leave me the hell alone and let me deal with this. My own way! You ain't pumping me full of shit. I'm fine damn it! Why don't you get it? I'm...fine!

"Dean? Bro, you are freakin' me out. You don't look so good. C'mon, just sit back and..."

"What Sam? RELAX? Of course, that's the word of the day isn't it Mr. Rogers? That is your damn solution to everything right? Well, you know what? I AM relaxed so just save it! You and Bobby. You plan and you plot and you think I don't know what you are doing. Well, Sam, you are not gonna calm me down. You are not gonna pump me full of drugs. For the last time, I am fine! So stop treating me like a damn child!"

"Dean, what are you talking about? No one thinks you are a child. You are hurt. And we want to help."

Okay, time to exit Dean, before Sam tries to pull another fast one over on you. You can do this Dean. Just, get on your knees. Yeah, that's good.

"What are you doing?"

Okay, get the door knob. Perfect. Wait for it. Wait for it.

"Dean, we're here. Please, just sit down. Bobby can help. Look, there's his place. See?"

Yeah, I see it Sam but I told you, I'm fine. You'll see.

Okay Dean, you have got to get out of here. Now. Pull the door handle. Check. Push on the door. Check.

"DEAN!"

Fly out of the car. Check.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

TBC... Thanks for reading. :)


	5. Chapter 5

"Damn it. DEAN!"

Ha! Later Sammy, in your face bro! You and your buddy Bobby can... Kiss. My. Ass. Huh, I bet you weren't expecting tha... FRICK! For shit's sake, what... Ow, that hurt damn it! I guess I didn't think that escape plan all the way through. Wow, what a dumbass. Smooooth move exlax. Way to go, flying out of a damn moving vehicle onto gravel no less. I am such a winner. NOT! Great, I can see the next Winchester bestseller now. 'Dean's Guide To The STUPIDEST Escape Plans Ever! Don't Try This At Home Folks!' Boy, babble much dude? Get a grip already. Wait. God. Did I actually just give myself shit? And use the term 'smooth move exlax? Just perfect.

Okay, breathe. I need to get my bearings, figure this out. I must of had a reason right? Just get up Dean. Stop being such a pansy ass and get to your feet. Get away. I know that Sam and Bobby just want to pump me full of drugs and watch me suffer. Watch me lose control. Wait. No. That's not right. But... why is it that I decided my only option was to try and turn myself into roadkill? Think! Come on brain, anytime you want to fire up and give me a clue here would be awesome!

First things first. Scope out the surroundings. Look for danger. Be alert. Keep your wits about you. Yeah, okay, there's the car. Stop it Sam! Stop with the horn already, my head is going to blow off, it is so damn loud dude! Enough already!

None of this makes sense. I'm...okay...I'm...shit...in bad shape maybe. I think.

"BOBBY! I need some help out here!"

Okay, Sam is out of the car and looking at the house. For Bobby. Sheesh, give it a rest already bro, you always freak out for no reason. How many times in my life am I going to have to say it? Huh? I'm fine! For the last time. I. Am. Fine. Just tired...and sore. My back. It's freakin killing me. And why? Right. Maybe because in my infinite wisdom I decided it would be best to launch myself out of my own car! What kind of idiot does that? What kind of moron? There must be a neon light above my head or something and it keeps blinking. Idiot. Here. Idiot. Here. God. Focus dude! What the hell is happening to me?

But come on. There must be a reason. I... yeah, I needed to get away. Had to get away. From Sam? No way, that can't be. Sam would never do anything to hurt me right? Would he? No, of course not. That's crazy. He would help me. Right? Ugh, this fricken SUCKS ASS! My brain feels like it's made out of swiss cheese. God. Repeat myself much?

Gotta move. Oh. Wait. Okay, I got it. I'm pretty sure that my wonderful, would never do anything to hurt me brother tied me up like some kind of criminal! God. Make it stop. Please. This itch. It's driving me nuts already. I can't think. So damn itchy. Dean, listen... get your hands free. That's step number one. Come on dude, you can do it. You can... damn it! Who taught that bastard how to tie these damn things? Huh. Figures. I did! Nice bro, really nice. Okay then, plan B. Just get up. Ignore the pain. Ignore the itch. Just do it before you get hauled away and experimented on. Yeah, that's it. Up and at em. Keep going. Don't look back. Just. Run. Get away. Ignore the dizziness and run!

Great, I just had to do it. Just had to look back. Cripes, I can't even listen to myself! Loser. That's me, Dean Winchester, loser. And what do I see back there? The dynamic duo. All that's missing is the capes, with their initials displayed proudly. Ha. Bobby Singer = B.S. That is fricken hilarious! B.S. coming to save the day! Oh my God. I am so out of it. Oh well, what else do I see? Flashlights. And I am pretty sure a worried expression or two. And just what are they attempting to find? Yours truly of course. Because they just can't leave me alone. They don't trust me. I will not go down without a fight. Not while I can still move. Sort of.

"Dean! Stop! You need to let Sam and I help you. You don't know what you are doing. DEAN!"

Nice try Bobby-O but the Dean Machine is in control. Well. Maybe. Anyway, if you two would just leave me alone for a damn minute so I can think. Please. "SHIT! Mother...stupid back!" Shut up! You are a real wuss sometimes you know that? Perfect. Just fricken perfect. Way to go. They heard that. Probably their superhero hearing coming into play. What? Just shut your piehole and get moving. NOW! Can't you just ever keep your trap shut? It's just a little pain. And blood. And...that damn itch!

"Dude! Quit running, I can see you! Where do you think you are going anyway? You are hurt and we need to give you the antidote. Remember? The poison? Remember? From the hunt earlier today?"

Hunt? Oh yeah. Slimy, greasy, stinky piece of evil crap. Right. I remember. But we killed it. Right? But...wait...just a second. Did it do something to me? Is that why I am all screwed up? What? Cripes, this bites. Just keep going. I'm not...I can't think so quit trying to confuse me Sam! You two. You always think you are smarter than me. Always think that I am lower than you. Maybe I do shoot first and ask questions later but how many times has that saved your sorry asses? Huh? How many times!

"Dean! Please! Just stop!"

So damn sore. So tired. Legs are being a bitch. Breathing. Is starting to be a bitch. Hell, I might as well take up smoking. I...I just need to stop. For a second. Catch my breath. Maybe behind this conveniently located bush. Yeah, they can't see me here. I just need...to rest...to figure this out. Just breathe. Quiet Dean. Calm down. Don't panic.

SHIT! What was that? Oh no. Nonono...get up, they are almost here. Damn it legs. Damn you Sam for tying me up. Totally not necessary dude! Shit. Busted.

"Dean? Hey man, what are you doing out here? We're at Bobby's, we can fix this now. Understand?"

Do I look like I am fricken five or something? You are really starting to piss me off now. You must really think I am the king of idiots or something. Do I understand? You can be such a condescending little bitch Sam.

"I... of course I understand Sam! You just...you won't give me a chance to breathe. To get my head around this. You are pissing me off!"

"But Dean, there is nothing to figure out. We already know what happened. You were spat on. Highly poisonous shit. Bobby and I want to fix it. That's it. End of story. So, how about you let us? What do you say bro?"

Great. Here comes the old man. Just look at them. Side by side, two sets of puppy dog eyes trained on me. Well, actually, Bobby just looks mad. Good old Bobby, can always count on him to NOT pull out the sympathy ploy on a guy.

Stop staring at me. You are creeping me out. God. Is this what a caged animal feels like? They are staring at me like I am the pork chop from a Looney Tunes cartoon and they are the mangy mutts just waiting to dig in! Woah. Just stop talking to yourself Dean, you sound crazy man! Maybe you can still get out of this. Whatever this is. I know. There. I'll just inch back on my ass and wait for the chance to get up and run. But next time I won't be such a stupid twit. I will not look back. Huh. Foiled by a damn tree. Halting my progress. Peachy.

Bobby. Stop coming at me man. You are making it even harder to breathe. Dean. Come on. You aren't scared of this old man are you?

"Stop being a damn idjit Dean! How far exactly do you think you are going to get? You're bleeding all over the place, you're tied up and you look like a pile of crap. You're pale. You're not thinking as well as you should. And, for crying out loud, that little show of yours? Jumping out of your car? So not cool son. And why on earth would you want to get away from us? We're the good guys!"

Even if I ain't at 100% don't think I can't still kick your ass into tomorrow Bobby. Don't make me.

"You can't get away son. You are in no condition to make a break for it or to be alone so just accept it. You are coming with us. One way or another. You are coming back to the house with us. End of discussion."

Okay that's enough. "Just who the hell are you to give me a talking to? To talk to me like I am a damn kid! Stay the hell away from me..." Deep breath. Deep breath. Shit. Why am I having such a hard time taking in air? "...Bobby, or so help me I will kick your ass!"

Somehow I don't think they are convinced. Hell, if I can tell something is wrong with me then their extra sensory perception skills are gonna pick up on that too. Shit. That speech so did not work. At all. God... harder to breathe...

They are still coming. Closer. And closer. Okay, you asked for it. Don't say I didn't warn you old man.

"What the? DEAN! Stop with the kicking or I will knock you out and drag your stubborn ass all the way to the house if I have to. Don't test me boy!"

Yeah right. You and what army Bobby? I really don't want to hurt you so don't get in my face. Don't touch me. Just try to knock me out. I dare you. What a joke.

Great. Now it's Sam's turn. Get out of my face man. Now.

"Dean. You trust me don't you?"

What? What the hell is this? Some piss poor excuse for a lame good cop, bad cop routine? Pul-lease. I wrote the book! Shit, again with those eyeballs. It's getting old bro. Of course I trust you Sam but I just don't know what is going on. And I'm confused and I feel like shit and I hate the fact that you two are looking at me like I am some kind of freak or something. You are way, way too inside my personal space for comfort. And I hate that! Cripes, okay, stop with the look already. Are you going to end up in tears? Over me? Don't be such a tool Sammy. I'm okay already! Why won't you believe me? Fine, just lay off.

"Y'h S'my. Of course I do. I'm just...I don't know...don't feel right...confused. Something. I think something is wrong Sammy."

"Listen. If you promise to just chill and not to try your disappearing act again I will untie your hands and we can talk on the way to the house. Alright?"

But. I don't think I want to go back to the house. Why? Oh. Yeah. You and Bobby. Shit. Needles. And drugs. And having me completely out of it right? That's your plan isn't it Sam? Shit. Breathe. Deep breaths. You're okay. Just get free and get gone.

"Dean. You need to calm down. Your breathing is too fast. Here, let me..."

"Don't you touch me Sam. I am not going to tell you again. I am fine. I need to leave. Just untie me damn it and leave me the hell alone! I'm..." God. Don't pass out...please don't pass out. Keep it together dude. Stay sharp. "...fine damn it! Now get me the hell out of these ropes since you're the one that did this to me! SAM! I thought you wanted to help me! Isn't that what you always, always preach to me! That you care? That you give a shit about me! This is an all out LIE isn't it?" Shit. Damn. Focus man. Breathe deep. Yeah, that's it. Deep breaths.

Speechless Sam? Because your secret is out? Because you and Bobby have been caught? Oh no...no you don't...I saw that. You can't hide it from me. That little look you gave each other. You are plotting against me again. Can't you at least have the balls to come at me straight on?

"What the hell is in that poison Bobby? He thinks we are out to get him or something!"

"I dunno kid. Never seen anything like it. Haven't read anything about it either. We need to get this done. Fast. Before something else happens."

"Hello! I can hear you!"

Get your hands off me Sam. If my hands weren't tied up in this ridiculous... you would get the pounding of your life!

"Okay, look Dean, just focus on me for a minute okay. Let me look at your face. Huh. Dude, you couldn't have jumped into a nice field of grass? That looks like it hurts dude."

You can try all you want with your attempt at humouring me but I am on to you. You are stalling. And Bobby is...shit...where is Bobby? Time to go...time to...

"Relax Dean. Just try and remember, we are here to help you. You are going to feel much better. Trust me."

"Trust you! Are you shittin' me? That's rich! AHHH! Get your mitts off of me Sam! I mean it! Let me go! What? What are you? What...the hell...are you doing? Where is...Bobby? Where is he?" My stupid body. Come on. You can get free. Please! Don't! Let me go! Sam, please. Why are you doing this to me?

"Just look at me Dean. Look at me. Everything is okay. But you are breathing way too fast. You need to calm down. It's time to stop fighting."

"Everything...is not..." Air. I need some air.

"Bobby, he is really worked up and having trouble getting air. He's starting to panic so whenever you're ready."

"Ready...for WHAT? Bobby? Sam? Don't...touch...me. I'm fine! Please! You said...said you were gonna help me! What are you...doing?"

"Okay, NOW SAM!"

"NOOOOO! Stop! Get off of me Sam!" Can't move. Get off me you damn...UGH!... Personal space, come on! Don't!

"Hurry Bobby!"

"Bobby? NO, please... I'm good...I'm fine... Why won't you...listen to me? Don't!"

"Sorry son but we are running out of time. Don't worry. But you need to calm down. It'll be over really soon..."

"Son of a bitch!" Bobby. No. Put that down. "Sammy... please...don't let him..."

"Just breathe Dean. You're okay. You're okay. Just breathe."

What? NO... just listen... I'm good... No Bobby... don't stab me with that... please.

DAMN IT! SON OF A BITCH! In the leg? Not good. That hurt. Can't...what?...wait... shit...in...oh...hate...drugs...

"Ssssammm..you...are...sssss..so...d...d...dead..."

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TBC... Thanks for stopping by and feel free to send along a review if you are so inclined! :)


	6. Chapter 6

"yer...soooooo dead S'm... gonna kick some...ass... ged off.. me man!"

"Yeah Dean, I know. I heard you the first time."

"It's okay Sam. You can let him go now, he ain't gonna go nowhere."

Ya S'm... sure... let go... k... good... now's my chance... gotta move... not out for count... not yet... still... gonna kick ass... wait, no... make that asses! You ain't innocent old man... no mercy. Did this t'me so you gotta pay... now gonna hurt... just... wait until I'm... until I... shit. Focus man... need to kick...

"Listen Dean. Just let go. Don't fight it son. You're strong kid but not strong enough. We can help you. We want to help."

Don't think so... tired of lies... B'by... not stay here... can't make me... won't let... nothing, not you... not back stabbin' brother... not drugs can stop... Dean train from leavin' station... man, I am good... good one Dean... ha! Oh no. Did I just laugh? Out loud? So not good... drugs startin' to mess with me... drugs... bad news...

"S..Sam... B'by? why... didn't have to... 'm fine good... let me up... wait... can't think clear... body heavy..."

Suck it up... quit whining, you sound like... loser... Okay... just move... one part at a time... Frick! Why, I feel like I weigh... 500 pounds... sucks... drugs right? Hate 'em... concentrate on leg... yes! Leg moved a little... still hope... but... DAMN IT! Still tied up like a... um, like a...

"S'okay Dean... one muscle at time... still can... get away." Shit. Stop talkin' out loud... keep to self man...

"He's still fighting it Bobby. I thought you said this shit would work!"

"Watch your tone with me Sam. I know you're worried but that don't give ya the right to act like a dick!"

"Yeah, I know Bobby. Sorry, I just, I wanna get this over with. This is wasting time, and we don't know how much time is left!"

"I know kid. I know. Give it another minute okay? It's working. Trust me. He can't fight for much longer. Believe me. That is potent shit. If your damn brother wasn't such a stubborn son of a bitch we would already be back at the house."

I... I think... I hate you B'by... hate drugs... not in control... hate that! You know it... S'm knows it... but, did anyway... see, you don't care... hate you... and you too S'm... Come on Dean... don't let it... frick... please, don't relax... can't give in... that nice calm feeling? It's a trick... not real... just wanna subdue you... for... for... um... somethin' bad... yeah... that's it... bad...

"Stop Dean. Sam and I are here, we'll take care of ya."

No...wait... bad stuff... and I... I can feel it... starting to get into head... stupid drugs... make me weak... and dopey... and sleepy... and, I know! Grumpy! God. Shit. Did I just name some of those damn dwarfs? Stupid drugs...can't think... can't... gotta keep clear... get out of 'mhead... you're stronger than this damn shit Dean... come on buddy... come on... focus on... on...

"Dean?"

That's my name. Huh, what was I saying? What happen? Why on ground? S'my? You okay?

"S'my... you ok? hurt?"

"Sam is fine son. And you're fine too. Just relax. Everything is okay. Sam is okay. You are okay. Now, breathe deep and stop thinking so hard. Don't wanna pop a vessel or somethin' right?"

"B'by? Hardy har har... funny... not! Why... head's fuzzy... cloudy... can't think..."

"Everything is fine. You've just had a rough night. Nothing unusual right?"

Did I? If B'by says so I guess... can trust him right? Of course I can... why would I...doubt it?

"'kay... don't member... don't..."

"It's okay. Don't worry about that now."

Right. Listen to Bobby... don't worry Dean... everything is fine.

Wow... starting to feel... really, really good... maybe i should relax? Can't be bad can it? It's kinda nice... not to think...

"Dean? How you feel man? How's the pain? The itch?"

Huh... what S'm? Umm... think I zoned out there... maybe just close eyes...

"S'm? What?"

"Any pain dude? How bout the itch?"

Umm... I feel... wait, huh... what itch? Not itchy... no pain... why you ask that S'm?

"M'fine dude. But, sure you're k? Not make sense man... did you hit head?"

"I'm good Dean. No injuries. I'm good."

Oh.. so I guess I'm good too then... was I itchy? In pain? Cuz I feel... not 100% sure what's goin' on but I think... I mean... I think I feel... yeah... feel fricken awesome bro!

"Dean? Still with us?"

Sound worried baby brother... don't... man, maybe you should try this... flying... floating... great stuff... help wipe that perma frown off face... shit, I always make you look like that...

"Don't worry Sam. I guarantee your big brother ain't feeling much. He's good to go. Flying high by now I think. Keep him upright while I untie him."

"Sure Bobby. I got him."

Oh yeah... forgot... tied up. Who? S'm? Did he tie me up? Whatever, don't know and don't care... thanks B'by, finally free... my turn as tied up freak officially over.

"Thnks B'by... better..."

"Glad to hear it son."

"We're gonna help you up now okay bro?"

"Y'h... my ass...asleep..."

"Alright man, open your eyes for me."

Okay. Hey S'my! I seeeeee you... and you... huh, two Sammy's are better than one...right? Cool... oh, okay, only one Sam again. But... aww, still look worried man... stop it... you look like you need a hug dude... ah hell, forgot... can't move... too damn relaxed... I think... if I could move I think... hell, I'd give you a hug... just cuz you probably deserve one... and you like that kinda stuff... maybe... maybe I don't hug you enough?

"Woah, you look seriously stoned bro. And what's with the smirk?"

"Just happy you're here S'm..."

"I take it back Bobby. This shit is working like a charm."

"S'm? Look worried? Don't worry bout me..."

"Right. Sure. Just save it Dean. You've been using that line on me for years and it's never worked. You're my brother and I can't help but worry when you go and get yourself hurt, especially when you do it to protect me."

"Not hurt S'my... I'm good... didn't do nothin'... I... I... feel really fricken good... 'm fine. Stop already. Wouldn't want your... yeah, your girlfriends to stop hanging out with ya... cuz you worry too much about me and... it makes your freakishly long locks...turn gray..."

"Yup, seriously out of it man. THAT sounded like an actual chick-flick kind of thing."

"Don' do... chick... flicks... not girl... like you..."

"Well, if you two are done with your weird brother bonding moment I think we better get moving. This ain't over yet, not by a long shot."

"Yeah... no fat lady..."

"Say again Dean?"

"C'mon... y'know... fat lady? Needs to sing first right? Haven't heard her... not yet... have you?"

"Umm, no. Not yet son. Not yet."

"See? I know... what 'm talkin' bout... sometimes..."

"I know this is serious stuff Bobby but would you happen to have a tape recorder?"

"What?"

"I mean c'mon, this? This is once in a lifetime stuff. Priceless shit right here, definite bribery material down the road man."

"Yeah, I hear ya Sam. But I think we should try and keep his dignity in tact. Remember, Hell hath no fury like Dean Winchester forced to face his emotional, can't stop talking out of his ass side."

"True. You're right."

"Ready to go Dean? Dean?"

"He's okay Sam, he can't help much anyway. You take that side, I'll take this one. Now the fun stuff begins."

"Fun? I like... to have... fun..."

"That's good to hear bro. Let's just hope you feel the same way for the next hour or two."


	7. Chapter 7

"Ready? One. Two. Three!"

"Woah, we got ya bro. What the hell you been eating? Lead? Dean?"

Huh. Funny. That's rich comin' from a damn Samsquatch... bitch... If I weren't so... what... high? Am I high? yeah, think so. But when the hell did that happen? Ah well, I won't complain, feel too damn good to care. Drank too much maybe? Hell, don't over think it man, just go with it.

"Just leave him be Sam. Let him enjoy whatever happy place he's in right now cuz he ain't gonna be too thrilled when we start the antidote."

When did it get so dark out? It's pitch black. Woah Dean, think about this. Can't see anything right? So maybe it's just cuz you got your peepers closed. Yeah, that's it. But, I don't want to open them just yet... like this drifting along feeling... could get used to this... man, whatever I did, whatever got me here it's good shit... gotta get more maybe?

"Bobby... exnay on the ure-cay."

"What the hell? Speak in english Sam!"

"What if he hears you?"

I bet I could let loose a major can of whoop ass on those evil sons a bitches if I felt this good. I wanna go kill something. Right. Now. A hunting I will go... A hunting I will go... then kill all those mother suckers... a hunting I will go. Yeah, cool song dude. Hey, it could be my theme song. Have it blaring through the speakers and then they will know. They are gonna die. Soon. Ha, good one Dean. You should write this shit down.

"Umm, well, just take a good look at him kid. He is grinnin' like an idiot and chuckling at nothing so I don't think he is 'earing-hay' me. He's floating around in his head, in his own world somewhere so let's just leave him there. Shit, he looks like he's having a whole bunch of fun in there."

"Right, okay, yeah, you're right. So this antidote? You sounded pretty ominous there man. You said something about needles before. What exactly is involved in this cure Bobby?"

"It ain't gonna be no picnic. Some pretty powerful and painful shit I mixed up."

"Okay.. and?"

"And... it's gonna hurt like hell. Dean is gonna be cursing us up and down and back and forth. We need to expose the areas where the infection has already taken hold and pour that rank shit right into the wounds to flush the poison out. It'll feel like acid to him, it'll burn like a son of a bitch."

"Great. That should go over well."

"Yeah, but that ain't all."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning.. well, sorry to say it son but that, the flushing of the poison? That is actually going to be the easy part."

"Doubly great."

 

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Woah. What. Okay, so just when did I start moving? Or, maybe I am not moving? Nope, pretty sure I am moving. Huh, open your eyes and focus Dean. Yup, there are my feet. On the ground. Moving, or rather dragging along the gravel. But, it's not me doing it. So then how? I don't remember gettin' up... just... okay, wait a minute. Two more sets of feet. Let me guess... My arms, they are being held around... oh... perfect... so, I am smack dab in the middle of a totally unmanly threesome here. Awesome. I'm being held up by... yup, there's my little brother with my arm around his shoulder. And, how about the other side? Yup, there is Bobby. The dynamic duo strikes again. But where's their capes? Wait. Did I think that already? Cripes, I know this sort of thing should annoy me but shit, who cares. Lead the way boys, lead the way, to... where again? Talk about not the sharpest pencil in the pack. What happened again? Frick, who knows and who the hell cares. Just enjoy the ride Dean. Find out later. Hmm hmm hmmmmmm... hmm hmm hm hmmmmmm...

"Dean?"

Okay, Sam is looking at me. But, he's... smiling? Damn that looks good. About time he...

"'Bout time turn that frown upside down bro." Shit. Did I? Cripes, did I just say that out loud? What the hell? So much for the strong, silent, macho image you've built up over the years Dean. Dufus.

Still staring at me. Still smiling. Maybe he didn't hear that last comment? Please.

"Wha' S'm? Somethin' on my face? It's... it's rude to stare man. Take a picture why don't ya? Boy, I musta tied one on huh? Feel pretty good. Not firing on all my cylinders.. or, it is pistons? Can't think."

"Hey Dean. Welcome back. Uh, and no, you're face is fine."

"What's with the smile then dude?"

"Um, you were humming a nice little tune just now. I'm gonna guess 'Smoke on the Water'. And dude, you are totally tone deaf."

What a little bitch. But he... he always knows how to make me smile. Good old Sammy. Best brother a guy could have. I'm so lucky. When I get a handle on myself again I'm definitely gonna hug that ugly son of a bitch.

"Smile...it suits you bro."

"Well thanks, but I have smiled before you know."

"Not enough man... not nearly enough."

"Ahem... Dean, stop thinking so much, you'll hurt yourself. We are almost at the house. Just a little further and you can have a rest. Okay?"

Oh, hey Bobby. Rest. Yeah, that actually sounds really good. Don't think I could stand up on my own right now. So heavy. Sleep. Yeah, sounds awesome.

So good. To see Sammy smile. I... I always keep that from him. He... wait. Don't get worked up Dean. Just calm down. Um, wait. My chest, it feels like. I know. It's aching...because...because it's all my fault. Always my fault. I did something. I must have. Bobby, he sounds worried. I'm relaxed. Why is he telling me to relax?

"Dean? You okay?"

See. In the blink of a fricken eye. Smile is gone. Worry is there. Damn it. All because of me.

Sam. he's cursed to have me as his brother. I am lucky and he is cursed. Should have left me, long time ago. He would be happy. Would smile all the time. He would be healthy. never get hurt. Nothing to worry about. Shit. Stop it Dean. Oh. No. I'm not... cripes, I am. Crying? For the love of... what the hell?

Can't look anymore. Look away. Be strong for once. For Sam. Don't be... so emotional. What? Me?

"Just... love ya bro, don't tell you enough. You're the best brother. Like. Ever."

"Love you too man. You know that. What's going on? Everything is fine, why are you so upset?"

Come on Dean, think of something. Fast.

"That song... it chokes me up man... classic... they... they don't make 'em like that anymore."

"Sure, whatever you say Dean."

Yeah. Good. Still moving but... getting foggy again. Rollercoaster much? Come on fog, time to lift. Time to get back to Sam. Gotta be on my game, just in case. But, man, I just... I do feel great. That's okay isn't it? To feel great once in a while?

"Hi Sammy."

"Um, hello again Dean. Kinda zoned out again there for a second hey?"

"Yeah, not sure... what were we just talking about? Where are we going again? I feel kinda weird... like I have all the pieces but can't quite put the puzzle together."

"We're gonna help you with that really soon Dean."

"Oh, okay. Something happened though right? To me? You and Bobby? Did you need to save my sorry ass? Again?"

"Yup, kinda in the job description for me. Sam Winchester, protector of brother Dean. Huh, has a nice ring to it hey?"

Look at them. Sammy the strong. Bobby the brave. Hey, they really are heroes. But, they are missin' the point. They should only save those who deserve it. Not me.

"Sam, careful. Try and change the topic okay? I don't know how but I think that stuff is starting to wear off, must be because of the poison. I know what you're thinking and you're right, he ain't quite with it yet. But, with the dosage he got he shouldn't even be able to form a sentence. So just lighten up the convo okay?"

"Hey B'by. You and S'my... you're heroes man..."

"Hey kid. We ain't no heroes. Not by a long shot. Listen to me okay? Try and keep those feet moving alright? I don't know how much longer I can lug your heavy ass around. Okay?"

"Sure old man. Sure."

But you are heroes dude. If it wasn't for you where do you think I would be? Well, I know, I would be dead. and really, would that be so bad?

"S'my? You and Bobby...heroes...heroes man...but, I... I don't deserve."

"Sam, remember what I said."

"Yeah, got it Bobby. So, what kind of heroes Dean? I'm thinking I would be Batman and Bobby over here could be Robin. Complete with red tights and a mask over his eyes. Right Bobby?"

"Over my dead body princess."

"Huh, that sounds great, I'm sure Bobby here has got the tights on under his jeans. Ain't that right? Ha! Okay, so where are you hiding it then Sam?"

"Hiding what Dean?"

"Where's the cape man?"

"Um..cape? Are you sure we have to worry Bobby?"

"C'mon dude. All the superheroes I've seen have on right? You and Bobby need a cape. I'm gonna get one for ya."

"I don't think we need 'em bro but thanks."

"Come on man, you have GOT to have them! I mean, you are always saving me right? Always! But, I need to know something. I wanna know, why? I don't... I mean... shit man... why me?"

"We're here son. Come inside and we'll talk some more okay?"

"Why save me? I'm no good. I'm not a good guy. Done so much bad shit. So much bad in me. I'm... huh, that's weird."

"Sam, let's get him onto the bed, I already have the stuff over there."

What? Wait. Sam, just hang on a minute... what the hell is with this nasty itch all of a sudden? Gotta stop. gotta itch...

"Need to... just can we please stop for a minute? Please S'my. Why...so damn itchy... I need..."

"Bobby?"

"Keep talking to him Sam, try to distract him from what's happening."

Damn it. Distract me? From what?

Oh. Crap. What is that shit? And what is with the restraints? And why are they looking at me like that? Oh, hell no!


	8. Chapter 8

This is not happening. This is not happening. There has got to be some sort of logical explanation for this other than my brother and the old man trying to freak me the hell out. Okay, time to wake up now Dean. Wake up man.

Typical. It figures. Just my luck, this is no dream. Well then I have got to say it. I am having the weirdest day.

Okay man, just play it cool. That isn't for me. That can't be for me. They wouldn't hook me up to some sort of medieval torture device right? No way, of course not. Huh, no need to worry. After all, what is there to freak out about? The grip that they have on you, the one that seems to be tightening up wayyyyy too much? Nah. The way I feel like I've been dunked in cold water and that happy, not a care in the world feeling that I am sure I felt a few minutes ago has been ripped away? Absolutely not. The way my body feels like it has been coated in cement? Not really.

The way that Bobby and Sam seem to have their eyes glued on me, waiting to see what I will do next? Um, maybe. The guilt-ridden expression on those faces? Yahtzee. There it is. That is definitely the freak out moment.

"Uh, fellas? You are kinda starting to make me a bit nervous here... I might be a little woozy still from...um... well, whatever, but I know that you would never, ever think of strapping me down to some sort of contraption against my will. You wouldn't want to risk the fear of me opening a major can of whoop ass on ya right, so what gives? Who or what exactly is going to be the guinea pig for this experiment? Huh?"

Bobby, what are you doing man? What is in that damn bucket? Looks like... I don't know... looks bad... and nasty. And why won't you look at me anymore? Why do you keep looking at Sam...and the bed...and the... frick.. the restraints?

"Someone better start talking! Sammy, what are you doing? I can't... please... don't tie me down... I... why... what did I do? Why are you so mad at me? I'm sorry! Whatever I did I'm... I'm sorry! Whatever you are planning please don't do it. I'm... I'm..."

Damn. Silence is never ever good in these kinds of situations. Just loosen up the grip already you two. Relax Dean. Don't panic. What? I think, am I actually sweating here? Why? That is not good. I'm tingling, and not in the good way that I like. Everything. Tingling. Which means...

That fricken itch. Ugh. My arms. Cripes, can't get to them. Now the legs? Well, can't use my hands for that. Deep breaths dude. Deep breaths. It'll pass. God, please, let it pass.

"UGH...Let go!"

"Stop squirming Dean, I'm sorry but this is happening. Time is up."

Shit. Okay. Could you be any more ambiguous than that?

"WHAT is happening Sam? You and your sidekick over here haven't told me a damn thing! So why don't YOU relax for a minute and explain what the hell gives you the right to treat me like this! What could I possibly have done to make you..."

SON OF A BITCH! This fricken itch is starting to piss me off.

No, wait, the real piss off around here is that these two morons have got me positioned so I can't touch myself. Oh God, I really hope I didn't say that out loud, that sounded all kinds of dirty dude. Huh. There I go again, Mr. Floaty McFloatsALot. Please, just make it stop already. Focus. Think, think and think some more man. Come on, why exactly would the most important people in your life decide that you are guinea pig material again? Did I.. did I do something to make them angry. Grrr, this is so fricken frustrating and for the love of God, I want to rip my damn skin off!

"Itch... gotta scratch... it's everywhere... please... Sam? Bobby?"

Frick. Sadistic bastards. They aren't even looking at me... They don't even care.

Damn it. Not... please... not my neck... and back... and chest... God, what is happening? I want to scratch my skin raw. Make it stop already. Somebody. Make it stop.

Huh. No. Okay, this is bad. Don't feel so good. Stomach... oh no, please, don't want to spew. They will never let me out of here. Focus. Don't...

"S'm? gonna..."

Oh well. Ha, take that... that's what you get for messin' with me baby brother. Lookee there, Sammy needs a new pair of shoes. Awesome.

"Okay Sam, it's getting worse so let's do this already."

Oh nonono, no you don't...

"Time to let me go guys. Ha ha ha, you had your fun. You got me, I've been punk'd. Show me the cameras so we can all have a laugh. I mean, you really had me going there. I actually thought you were intent on strapping me down on that menacing looking bed there. But... I mean, that's ridiculous right? You would never... not..."

Somebody tell me I'm right! C'mon Sammy, since when do you clam up? I know you love to hear the sound of your own voice so anytime bro!

The silent treatment huh? And avoiding eye contact are we? So, I guess this means it is for me. Well, isn't that just fricken peachy. But please, don't tie me down... not that... and why would you want to? What did I do?

And God, if you tie me down then...oh no, I won't be able to scratch... Okay Dean, it's official. Time to panic.

"Pleeeease... I'm... I could really go for the use of my damn hands now, gotta scratch this damn itch! You can't do this Sammy! Bobby? Why are you doing this? Why are you letting me suffer? Why? No, please... PLEASE!"

Shit. Not again. Ugh. Stupid stomach. Traitor. Oh. That's bad. I hate that taste. Copper. Frick. Just when I thought things couldn't get worse. Welcome to my life.

"Bobby? Blood."

Sheesh, what gave it away college boy? The smell? The taste? The sound? NO! How about the distinctive red colour, you master of the understatement! You can be such a... I mean come on! It's me right? So of course there just has to be blood! The universe has it out for me so it just makes sense...I would start... cripes... hacking up blood... trying to get... away from Batman and fricken Robin over here. Hey guys, that reminds me, you can consider your superhero status officially revoked! Ha, take th...

Ow! "SHIT! SON OF A..." That hurt. "Sam? Please, what the hell is happening? My whole body... hates me..."

"Breathe Dean, it'll all be better soon. I promise man. We are gonna take care of you. But you have to let us."

"Feel...so tired S'm..."

Woah. Wait. No. Am I? How did I get... No, get me off the bed... don't wanna be strapped down... please Sammy! PLEASE! Fight Dean!

"Sammy please? Bobby? Don't... don't tie me down... I hate... need to have... some... control..."

Damn, stupid eyes are starting to get foggy. Wait. Double damn it. Tears? For the love of, what is... grow some balls already Winchester.

"LET. GO. OF. ME. NOW! Not gonna ask twice Sam." Huh, saw you flinch for a second, must have my patented death glare working on its maximum setting.

"Bobby, he's too tense. His muscles and joints are locked up. I can't... little help here... can't get his arms..."

Yeah, never underestimate the power of the adrenaline rush bro. What did you think, I was just gonna lie back and take it? LET the two of you strap me down and do God knows what to me? Not damn likely. I don't even feel that damn itch right now so I guess I should thank you for that. You've got me so pissed off that all I can concentrate on is making your job in this freak show a nightmare.

"Ah hell Sam, maybe he's right."

"What?"

"What?"

Cool. Stereo.

"Try to look at it from his point of view. He doesn't really remember much about the poison..."

Sure I do. Um... spittle... from that ugly mofo..

"...or jumping out of his car..."

Say what?

"...or the trip back here..."

Crap. Yeah, how did I get here? Well this bites.

"...or about the cure for that damn itch..."

Cure? Wait... Wait, I remember something... in the car... shit. Needles... no way... there has to be another way.

"...so what is he supposed to think when we drag him in here and he sees the restraints? Poor kid, I'd be freaked out too."

Yeah Sam, poor me! Thank God, finally a voice of reason around here. A gravelly, gruff kind of voice... but still... Ha, in your face Sammy. Let's see you try and rationally defend your actions now. Bobby is on MY side! Go Bobby Go!

"But Bobby, come on. I don't think..."

"No buts kid. Your brother just needs to rest for a minute to clear his head. We owe him that much. He has been under a lot of stress and this, well this ain't helpin' any. We'll just leave him be for a couple of minutes, it'll give all of us a chance to cool our jets, and then we can talk calm and rational like. We can explain exactly what we are doing and why."

"Bobby, I really don't think that's a good idea."

"Sam. Look at me. Listen. To. Me. Are you listening?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. If you let him go... He...Will...Relax."

Come on Sammy. Come on.

"Oh yeah. Okay. Yes, right Bobby. I guess, I didn't really think of it that way."

Good boy.

"Yeah, listen to your elders Sam. Time to let me go dude."

"Okay Dean. Sorry man, I... I got a little carried away but Bobby's right. It won't do you any good if you hyperventilate or something cuz you don't know what's happening and why."

"S'okay Sammy. Just need a minute..."

...to get the hell out of here...

"Dean, your brother and I are just gonna head to the other room for a minute okay? Just close your eyes and try to rest. We'll be back in a few."

Play along Dean. This is your chance. Close your eyes, just for a minute.

"Okay Bobby."

Keep your eyes shut for another minute in case they are watching. Then it is finally time to get the hell out of Dodge. They'll never see it coming.

Wait. Huh. Did the bed just dip? No, I am just imagining things. No. There it is again. So.. that would... that would mean... Crap! No. You sneaky piece of shit mother fricken back stabbing bastards! Damn it to hell! My arms? And my feet?

Shit. I can't fricken believe it. I have just been psychologized. By Bobby no less.

What the hell? Okay, this is getting more and more disturbing. Sam?

"Sam, lay off dude.

"Sorry bro. Pretty sure you weren't just gonna strip if I asked nicely so you can kiss this outfit goodbye."

"Damn it. Stop cutting my clothes! This is so wrong on so many levels. Just.. let me out of these Sam! Bobby!"

"Sorry son but there was no way I am gonna let you just walk out the door. You are in serious trouble and we are gonna fix it. But you may want to shut your eyes for this. I ain't gonna sugar coat it for you, this is gonna hurt like a son of a bitch."

I do not like the sounds of that. Or the look of Bobby right now. He's got his game face on and the fact that he is now holding that bucket of sludge and a rag in his hand is not helping.

"C'mon guys... let's talk about this... let's..."

"Here Sam."

What in the fricken hell? A gag? No. You are not... damn it Bobby, let go of my damn head.

"Bite down Dean."

God. What is that shit. Can you see me? I hope you can both see the glare. I am never fricken talking...

"Hold on to him Sam."

Why? I'm already strapped in here like some kind of... I don't know... guy who's strapped in... and I have a damn muzzle in my mouth. How could that shit in your hand possibly require this much...

AHHHHHHHHHH... SHIT! God, AM I ON FIRE? My damn neck is on fire! STOP! PLEASE! STOP! STOP!

Okay, shit. What. The. Hell. Was. That?

"How's he doing Sam?"

Breathe. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

"You're gonna have to wait a minute Bobby, his breathing is out of control."

"Dean, you're okay bro. You're okay. It'll pass. Just focus on my voice, concentrate on it. That's good. You're doing great. I bet you wanna kick my ass huh?"

Another... damn... understatement...

"Well, just need to get through this and you can give it your best shot... Good to go Bobby."

What? No Bobby. I am soooooo NOT good to go. No more, please... no more... Please Bobby, put it down... don't... don't...


	9. Chapter 9

God it hurts. Fire... burning... why am I burning? Please, I need... please Bobby, just look at my face, for one damn minute! Please! Someone, for the love of...stop ignoring me!

Okay, just move Dean. Wiggle. Or squirm. Or buck. Or... just anything to get their damn attention! Let me TALK!

Please Bobby... stop. Don't.

"It's okay bro, everything's okay. Just a little longer. Almost over."

I have been hearing that bullshit for I don't know... hours? So easy for you to say. You aren't strapped down, practically naked and gagged like some kind of fricken lunatic!

And...please, can someone tell me... what is that? Smells like a rotten...I dunno...a rotten dead something. Can't you smell it? Oh no, gross, is that coming from me? Well ain't that peachy? Here's a tip for ya, if you are gonna douse someone with a pail of god knows what it would only be polite to...

Christ, I am gonna hurl...nasty... just swallow...breathe... concentrate on something else... anything else... like... um... all the ways you are gonna get these two yahoos back... yeah... just...

Just put that bucket of slop down.

Please...Bobby...stop. Don't...just...don't...why are you doing this to me? What? What did I do? Nonononono... NOOOO! Frick! Stop it! C'mon man, it's me! It's Dean! Just...STOP! SON OF BITCH! Okay, just breathe Dean. Just breathe. Don't puke.. don't puke...

SON OF A PIECE OF CRAP ON A STICK OF PAIN IN THE ASS MOTHER!

Damn it. This pisses me off. I actually did just bite down on that shit rag in my mouth. If I hear one 'I told you so' come out of your pie hole you are gonna get the whooping of a lifetime bro...

"Hang on Dean. It's okay. You're doing great. Better than I would have. We need to flush out the poison."

Puhlease, lay off the bullshit. It already smells like a damn corpse-a-thon in here... ha, that was a good one. Shit, that reeks.

I am seriously going to spew.

"Bobby, stop. Take a look at this. Is that the poison?"

Yeah, right.. okay..poison... what? What is that look for now?

"Uh Bobby? Is that supposed to happen?"

Is what? What are you looking at Sam? Not you too Bobby. Stop dissecting me for a damn minute and tell me... What is it!

"Just look at me dude, focus on me. You're okay."

Give it a rest Sam. You can't bullshit a bullshitter. This is definitely not okay.

"Yeah, it's good. That means it's working, the poison is coming up to the surface...Dean, won't be long now son. Try to relax."

Oh my fricken God! I swear, the next time I hear that word I am going to start...

Wait. What the hell? Aw, come on! You have got to be shittin' me! What now? My chest... killing me... shit... that right there can not be good. It looks like a fricken roadmap. Okay, Jesus, what in the...what is... FRICK! AHHHHHHH... can't... control... damn... shakes... My chest... what is happening?

Can't focus... can't see... dark...

"Bobby, he's convulsing!"

Ya think? College...geek...Captain...Obvious... huh, maybe...

"What's happening?"

"Damn it! The poison, it's...I mean... it's speeding up...or multiplying."

"What? It knows that we are getting rid of it?"

"Yeah, looks like. And we gotta move fast because now it's moved up from an annoying itch to a.. hell, turning his insides to mush. Things are gonna get real bad, real fast."

"Dean, open your eyes! Please bro!"

Not...listening to you...anymore... Christ! Just kill me already! Can't... need to... no...can't breathe...

"Sam, take that damn gag out of his mouth. He needs to get more air!"

Thank God.

"Dean, breathe with me okay bro? You aren't getting enough air."

"No...shit...Sherlock..."

"Hey man, nice to hear your voice."

"can't...say...same...bitch..."

"Just as funny as always Dean."

What you doing over there Bobby? What? Oh hey, there you are...

"Hate...poison...B'by...don' wanna be...mush..."

"Huh, yeah, I hear ya and I don't blame ya son. I'm gonna make ya feel a whole lot better real soon but you ain't gonna like how."

"let me guess...that was.. easy part?"

"Yup, you got it. Listen, I know this blows but the poison has ramped up its attack on you and we need to get rid of it...now...which means..."

Awesome. Nothing more frightening than that. Bobby holding a big ass needle in his hand, a look of guilt on his face, and me tied up like a fricken side of beef.


	10. Chapter 10

Well shit. Okay then. Bobby looks determined. Sam looks scared. And I just want to get the frick out of here. So, I guess it's time to suck it up. These two definitely are not done messing with me yet. But, really. It's just a damn needle after all. That can't be so bad. Right? I've been through a lot worse shit than this. It's just a little..well, maybe little is a bit of an understatement, but it's nothing major. Compared to broken bones and knife wounds and battles with all kinds of undead pieces of shit this should be a piece of cake. I've been inflicted in a million worse kinds of ways so this shouldn't even be a blip on the radar. But, if that's true then why the hell do I feel like a damn pig hanging over the spit with sweat covering every inch of my body?

Damn poison is messing with me.

That is a big fricken needle Bobby. But so what. So what if it's filled up to the max with, uh, some sort of crazy ass blackish swill? That's okay. So what if Bobby there is actually going to plug that shit into my veins? No big deal. Huh, well, I think I just answered my own damn question. That is exactly the reason why I can't let this happen. Cuts and bruises can be patched up from the outside. This? Well, who knows what the frick it is and what it will do. That is why this is freaking me out. Why I hate needles. Why I always will. That is why I need to fight it, every inch of the way. To the end. Gotta be another way.

Okay. That's bad. Bobby just sighed. One of his 'I'm on the verge of losing my patience sighs.' Man, I am so screwed.

"Dean, I can hear the wheels turning around in that thick skull of yours so let me spell it out one more time, nice and simple like. Stop squirming and let me do this. Or you die. Got it?"

Wow. Way to sugar coat it Bobby.

Great. Perfect. Now Sam's got the same look on his face as needle man over here. Determination. Shit. I hate determination. I guess that means the sympathy card just flew out the damn window. Peachy.

"He's right bro. Stop already cuz I'm pretty sure you don't want to die. And c'mon man, it's just a needle dude! Since when did you turn into such a girl?"

Whatever. Not falling for that psycho babble crap again. Been there. Done that. Got boned.

What's that sound? Is that me? Sure it is, why the hell not? So, let me get this straight. I smell like a sack of shit that's been fermenting out in the sun for way too long; I'm strapped down courtesy of thing one and thing two here; and now I sound like a wheezing bagpipe? Cripes. It must be against the law somewhere to have so much fun all at once.

"I know you are having a hard time breathing son. Hell, you're rattling away like one of the clunkers in my yard. Try and take some slow, deep breaths. Focus on that."

Wow. Dr Bobby to the rescue. Thank God you are here to coach me on the finer points. Don't forget to breathe Dean! Just relax Dean! Give me a break already. This routine is getting old. Fast.

"Once the antidote starts to work you are gonna wonder why you fought so hard. Now, stop being such an idjit and relax your arm so I can get this done. This is gonna help you. It'll be over soon."

You know what Bobby? You and Sammy keep saying that but I'm still here. Nothing has changed. I still feel like shit. So who are you really trying to convince? Me or yourself doc? 'I'm just gonna stab you with this big ass needle Dean and then you'll feel better.' Bull-fricken-shit Bobby.

And then there's me. Can't breathe too well. Confined. Pissed off. On the verge of a panic attack but I guess it's all okay as long as you say so. Don't worry Dean. It's okay Dean. It'll all be over soon Dean. Isn't that what they say right before the meteor hits and wipes out the planet? Or right before the bomb detonates? Ah well, I guess it can't get much worse.

Weird. I'm...tingling. My feet. Now...my legs. Idiot. Way to go. Why did I have to go and jinx myself? Haven't I learned yet that whenever I say something like 'what else could go wrong' that the planets go out of whack and I end up getting dicked around? Okay, Bobby hasn't put that shit in me yet so it's gotta be something else. Damn it. That probably ain't good. Can't move them. Hell, can't feel them either. Okay, yeah, this could definitely be bad. So once again I have to be shown that things can always get worse? Man, I guess I am just a douchebag at the mercy of the cosmos.

Okay then boys. Stop gawking at me and lets get this freak show on the road already. For being so gung ho and eager to start this stupid experiment you sure seem to be taking your sweet ass time.

"Dean? Your arm. Please, quit struggling."

Oh, okay. Sorry Bobby. I'll stop.

"Do it..B'by...can't..feel legs. Bad...right?"

There they go again. Staring across at each other. Ease up on the googly eyes already. I feel sick enough without having to interpret your secret code glances for 'Dean is screwed.' I kinda figured that one out myself.

"Well, it ain't good son. Okay Sam, better come up here and hold his shoulders down."

Sammy. Looks worried again.

"S'okay S'my...it's good... I'm..."

Okay. Maybe this ain't so bad. It feels pretty good. Numb. I kinda like numb right now. Can't feel nothin'. Maybe those two are worried for no reason. Shit. Time to let the boys figure it out while I just drift for a bit. Thinking so much hurts my head.

"Dean?"

'M okay Sam. I'm in my happy, can't feel any pain place and I like it. It's good.

"Bobby?"

Voices are fuzzy now. Did you move away again?

"It's the poison Sam. It's numbing him from the inside. It's like the venom of a spider, it paralyzes its victim first before, well...you know. Just hold him down and talk to him. And get the bucket ready, it's gonna get messy around here."

Paralyzes? Messy? Two words that should worry me but I don't think I care. I kinda just like this floating feeling. I can see... so many colours. They are so cool. And the swirling blackness? Hell, that's even cool right now. Maybe.. I think it's time to just have a little rest. Tired.

"Still with us son?"

Uh, no, not really Bobby. Tired. Don't wanna fight anymore. I'm done.

"Sam, keep a good grip on him. Ready?"

"Yeah Bobby, I got him but it's freaky. It's like he is looking right through me."

"Just talk to him Sam."

"Hey Dean. Hey man. Try to focus on me."

Trying Sam. You're blurry. Fuzzy. But those colours are all around you. Cool.

"Dean, if you can hear me son, I'm injecting you with it now. I'm sorry, it's gonna hurt."

Yeah yeah... Blah, blah and blah. Whatever Bobby. I'm good. I'm ready. Waiting. And waiting some more. Can we get this done already?

"K..B'by... go... ahead."

"It's done Dean."

"Don't...feel it..."

"You will Dean. You will."

"Sound like... Yoda...dude.."

Awesome. It doesn't hurt. At all. Any minute now I will wake up in the car... just a bad dream... just a bad...

Okay. It's okay man. Just a little burn in your feet... um... and legs... and chest... and neck... and arms... and... HEAD! SHIT! DAMN IT! MAKE IT STOP! I wanna go back to numb! Please!

"Hold onto him Sam!"

The burn. It's crawling up my throat. Did Bobby jab me full of acid? Is that the antidote? A bloodstream of freakin acid? It's...it... oh no.. This is gonna hurt like a son of a ... gonna spew.. God... Sam...

"S'm..."

"Dean? You okay?"

"gonna... spew..."

"Shit... okay man. Okay."

FRICK! Throat is on fire! What the hell... gross! Black...shit...

"I got you bro. I got you. It's working. The poison is getting out of your system. You're doing great."

Just shut the hell up Sam! Not helping dude. Damn.. not.. again... throat's killing me... can't... not more...

"Need another bucket Bobby!"

Cripes. How much shit can one... please...no more... SON OF A BITCH!

"You're doing great Dean."

Shut up! Don't lie to me! Don't feel great! But... okay... maybe I'm done now.. yeah... all...

"Done bro?"

"Y'h.."

Throat hurts. Raw. Head hurts. Pounds. I think I liked the poison better.

"Here Sam."

Please. What now? No more.. don't... Ahhh. But, wait. Are you washing my face dude? Stop. That's just wrong. But feels good. Maybe he won't notice. If I just lean in for a minute. Cool feels good. I.. I can see you Sammy. Not blurry... kinda miss the colours though.

"Relax bro. It's finally over."

"You did great son. It's okay now. All done. Why don't you have a sleep, you look like you could use it."

"B'by?"

Shit, that fricken hurts.

"Don't talk. Just rest princess."

Huh, you are quite the charmer Bobby. Okay. I think... I will... oh yeah, that's nice. So tired. Wait. What are they?

"It's okay. Close your eyes dude. Just getting you out of these restraints. Go to sleep."

"K..s'mmmy... th...thanks."


	11. Chapter 11

Ugh. Just what in the hell crawled in my fricken mouth and died a horrible death? And what in the hell is that smell? Am I laying in a field of rotting corpses or something? Nah, I would think that would be something I would remember. But still.

Cripes, is this what it feels like to be steamrolled? Alright, just need a minute to get my bearings. Laying down. Feel like shit. Well, nothing unusual about that. But, laying down? Hmm…

Okay man, just open up your eyes and try and figure out what pile of shit you have managed to get yourself into this time. On the other hand, maybe not. I feel like I played chicken with a semi, and lost. Fantastic. Plus, I think my eyeballs have a different idea, they aren't too keen to see what's going on either. Alright eyes, you win, one more minute to rest up.

But. No. Can't rest. Sam. Gotta move. Need to make sure that Sam is okay. Need to make sure.

Okay, time to do the check. Man. Sore. Everywhere. Either I have slept for twenty years and now am an old man, or I got the short end of the who gets beat stick. Damn it. Did I just groan? Perfect, can't even keep my trap shut. I probably let the bad guys know where I am. What was I hunting again? This blows. Damn it. Concussion? Demon? Frick, I feel like I'm the entrée on the all you can eat hunter platter.

Quiet Dean. What was that? Stay still man. Stay still. I'm sure I just heard a creak on the floor. Shit. It's getting closer. Get ready. I think flight is out of the question but I can still throw a punch or two. Maybe.

"Dean, you awake dude?"

Huh. Sammy. Well, that's a relief, wasn't really expecting that. At least I don't have to worry about your ass. Cuz honestly, I was really wanting to pass on having to fight some evil son of a bitch just now. Man, what is up? Did I just sigh? Or was that a whimper? Like a girly, thank God I've been rescued by Prince Charming kind of noise? That is just so wrong. On so many irritatingly chick flicky levels. Please Sam, just pretend you didn't hear that okay?

"You've been out of it for a while. How are you feeling?"

Okay then. So no bad guys. That's good. No Sam yelling for me to get up and get moving to avoid a violent and painful blow. That's a bonus. But man, the hell if I can remember what happened and what in the frick got us here.

"Dean?"

"Y'h…m'here…S'm…"

Shit. Throat. What kind of crap was I smokin' last night? Hurts like a son of a bitch.

"Okay man, try not to talk. I'm sure your throat has revolted on you."

"Don' ask.. then.. bch.."

"Got it. Jerk. I'll get you some ice chips then."

What? Ice chips? Where the hell are we that we can get ice fricken chips? Cripes. Am I in a hospital? No. Smells wrong. Way too rank to be a hospital. Ah hell, who cares. Sammy's safe. That's all that matters. And I will deny it until I'm blue in the face but ice chips sound pretty damn good right now.

Maybe I'll just take a minute to think. Or get some more shut eye. Something tells me I don't want to move just yet.

"Back. Okay, let's try and get you to sit up alright? We need to have a look at you. See how you're doing."

Yeah, okay Sam, don't get those panties of yours in a bunch. Wait. We? Shit. Hurts. Open them eyes Dean, don't let Sam know you feel like something the cat dragged in, or puked out. Huh. Puke. Damn it. I remember something unpleasant about that. Black, stinky shit. From me. Freakin perfect.

There you are Sam. Come on eyes, don't fail me now. Fine, go on strike then. Damn it, they don't want to make this easy just yet. Okay, three of you. Now two. Try and focus Dean. Ah, okay. One very tired, gone through the wringer looking baby brother who is in his full mother hen mode. Well, some kind of shit went down. Just gotta get him to fill in the blanks for me.

Okay, where the hell am I? Huh. Well ain't that awkward. Just why is it that I am laying on a bed with just my boxers on and a flimsy white sheet? Where the hell are my clothes? And…okay, that is definitely not a good sign. Restraints? Yeah, that would explain why my wrists and ankles feel like they are missing, oh, I don't know, layer upon layer of skin! Just relax the breathing man, don't want to get nursemaid alarmed. Shit. Too late, Sam is coming in for the kill. Way, way too far inside my personal space dude.

"Woah, hey Dean. Just slow down for a minute will ya? Everything's okay now. You're good. All fixed. You need to take it easy for a bit okay? Need to recover. Just, here, take some of this ice, it'll help your throat. Man, you really know how to put on a show huh? Do you remember anything?"

I remember how much I hate that question. It means something happened, and not the warm and fuzzy feeling something either. I probably got hurt, Sam got worried, and voila, here we are. Again. Probably did something stupid to get into this and just this once maybe we can just let it slide and not discuss it? C'mon Sammy, can we try that? Just this once? Frick. That look just screams 'No Dean, we are going to talk and talk and talk some more about what happened.' God Sam, staring at me like that isn't going to make me think of the answer any sooner dude.

"Uh…" Damn it. Did I swallow some razor blades or something? Yeah, right Dean, sure, that's what happened. Idiot much?

Wait. Just wait. Bits and pieces. I can see bits and pieces. Too bad though. Those bits and pieces blow. Tied down. Sludge. Needles. Puke. Pain. Okay, had enough of this stroll down memory lane. That's it. Get me the frick out of here. Now. Just let me up Sam. I need to.. damn it, get a hold of yourself Dean! Since when did you turn into such a freakazoid, getting all panicked over what? A needle? Some pain? C'mon, don't go soft. But...

"Bobby, could you help me out in here for a minute?"

Bobby. Right. Bobby's place. I. We.. came here.. why did we come here? Wait. We were on a hunt right? But. Can't remember. Damn it. I hate this shit. I'm such a useless…

"Dean, come on bro, don't get yourself all worked up, it's all good. Poison is gone. You are gonna be fine. You need to slow down the breathing dude, I can't go through you gasping for air again."

What? Again? Newsflash Sam, that is not helping! Quit with the pity look Sam. I've felt worse. I've been worse. I can breathe. Maybe. Sam, what are you doing? This is so fricken gay dude. Get your damn hand off of me.

"Deep breaths Dean. Slow, deep breaths. C'mon, put those dagger eyes away, they really are not working right now. Humour me man, it's been a hell of a long night."

Shit. Okay. Sorry man. Once again I have screwed up and got you wearing that worried expression again.

"S'ry…S'm…"

Crap. Throat on fire. Right. Spewing acid. Peachy.

"Not listening to your bullshit Dean. I know it's fuzzy but you played hero once again to protect me so can you just do me a favour here and concentrate on remembering how to breathe? Okay?"

Fine. Mother Theresa wants me to breathe. Fine. I'll breathe.

"Calm and slow and deep breaths Dean."

Yeah, I can do that. Huh. Damn it. I hate the fact that Sam can make me do this shit. And that the pressure of his hand on my chest seems to help? Well, that will just be something to keep to myself. I'll just close my eyes for a second, so he can't see how terribly uncomfortable and unmanly this crap is.

Shit. How embarrassing. I'm sure I just sighed again. Maybe Sam's girlish nature is rubbing off on me. No. Maybe I'm just beat. Maybe I do just need to rest. Cuz I saved him. From? Ah yeah, right. From a spit spewing, spittle spitting spits a lot spitty monster. Huh. Right. Jabba the Hutt wanna be. Gross piece of shit. But rotting somewhere now so that's good.

"That's good Dean. Much better. You don't have to be strung so tight all the time. Maybe this could be a new routine for you, instead of counting to ten we could play a game of 'Breathe With Me'."

Way to ruin my happy moment Samantha. Well, eyes are wide open now and that smug smirk on your face isn't helping. Well, maybe a little. Oh, alright, I'll smirk back.

"Hey princess, glad you could join the party."

Hey Bobby. You look like shit too. Because of me? Yeah, of course, always because of me.

"Look son, I know you are still putting the pieces together and feel like a sack of shit so you need to calm down and relax. And stop trying to put on your brave face, you look like a 2 year old could beat the crap outta you right now."

"Oh..yh? name one… it's…on…any around?.."

"Damn smart ass. Well Sam, I'd say you're brother has been purged off all the poison and before we know it we will be having to deal with his normal, irritating, stubborn self instead."

"Cute…old…man…"

"Nice to have you back too kid."

Damn it. That ice feels good on my throat. Sam is safe. Bobby is safe. Another supernatural piece of shit sent back to wherever the frick it came from. Another day in the life of the Winchesters. I'm trying to listen to what you're saying Sammy but I don't think I can keep my damn eyes open.

Shit. I hate that. Did I just nod off?

"It's okay man, get some sleep bro. You've been through one hell of a time. I'll fill you in on everything when you can stay awake for more than thirty seconds. Lay down dude. We'll be here when you wake up. Glad you're okay bro. "

"M'good…S'm… th..anks… you too.. B'by…"

"Yer welcome. Idjit. Now get some rest. You won't be back to 100% for a few days cuz of that damn antidote so why don't you, for once in your damn life, stop worrying about everything and everybody else and just try to enjoy some peace and quiet? Lord knows your brother and I need to take a break from worrying about your hide too. Okay son?"

"Y'h...you two look... like... shit..."

Huh. I think both of them just did their world famous eye rolls. Yeah, things will be back to normal soon. Okay Sam. Okay Bobby. I guess I could sleep. Just for a minute. Eyes closed. Feels good.

"Okay dude, get some shut eye cuz don't forget, you promised each of us superheroes over here a cape, and we can't have you passing out at the sewing machine."

What? Shit. I must be hearing things. Whatever. Good night Sammy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.   
> Thank you for stopping by and checking this out! :)


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